Classic Poem

THE MUSING LOVER .

Long have these walls, since touch'd by Ruin's hand,
Hung, threat'ning death to all that pass'd below;
Yet, strange to tell, while pensive here I stand,
Their desolation fills my breast with woe.
For here I first beheld the darling maid,
To whom henceforth my best regards are due;
For here I first that graceful form survey'd,
By far the fairest in affection's view:
Here first those eyes I saw, whose radiance clear
With softest influence penetrates the soul;
Here first that voice I heard, whose accents dear
Can each tormenting passion's power controul:
Here first I knew that strong, but gentle mind,
From which my future life its comfort hopes to find.